


Storm in a Teacup

by phoebe_georgina_mck



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Major Original Character(s), Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Pre-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks - Freeform, The Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter) is Terrible
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:55:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24197842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoebe_georgina_mck/pseuds/phoebe_georgina_mck
Summary: Newly qualified auror, Seraphina Fife is thrown in the deep end when she and her best friend Nymphadora Tonks are recruited into the secretive and dangerous  world of Albus Dumbledore's secret society, the Order of the Phoenix.Seraphina believes she has uncovered serious corruption at the Ministry, the others think its run-of-the-mill. But will she be proven right or will it turn out to be nothing more than a storm in a teacup?Based between the events of "The Goblet of Fire" and "The Order of the Phoenix", Storm in a Teacup follows the missions of the Order members and the relationships and friendships that flourish in Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.
Relationships: Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks, Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s), Sirius Black/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

Seraphina Fife strode through the square, her bloody, mangled right arm clutched tightly to her chest with her left, keeping carefully and particularly to the shadows, weaving around the orange sodium-cast glow of the lampposts. Should she be required to dive quickly into her pocket for her wand, she knew her weaker left hand would be useless against a skilled dueller. If she could only remain unnoticed for another minute, she would reach Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place almost in one piece. Her eyes, tired and strained as they were, darted constantly around her, alert to the slightest sign of movement in the darkness, ready to catch the swish of a dark cloak along the grubby London pavements. 

How her arm ached. She could feel her concentration ebbing away as she rounded the corner from West Cherrybank Lane, with its proud, well-kept white townhouses, to face the familiar, gloomy facade of the single blackened sandstone terrace that formed Grimmauld Place. She staggered along the street, feeling herself blanche and her eyes begin to flutter when she finally reached the join of Numbers Eleven and Thirteen. Clumsily and painfully slowly, she fumbled in the inside pocket of her denim jacket with her left hand, her injured right slumping agonisingly at her side. She had to lean on the broken iron gate to keep herself from collapsing with the pain and the great curtain of fatigue that was being drawn over her. With one last great effort, she clasped her fingers around the tiny piece of paper carrying the tall, slanting writing that she sought. She let her eyes focus on the words, and let her brain dwell on their meaning as she knew she must.   
The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.

To her great relief, the creaking, four-storey silhouette of Number 12 loomed over her where seconds before there had been a mere drainpipe. She opened the gate and stumbled up the three stone steps that led to the huge, battered black door, managed to bang her fist against it three times, and then descended into the blackness that had been hovering around the edges of her sight for some time.

****

The following hours passed in flashes of consciousness, vague impressions and snippets of conversation. She was aware at one point of the cool skin of a hand on the back of her neck, gently tilting her head forward, and the curious, tickling sensation of warm liquid as it passed her slightly parted lips. She was sure that someone remained sat close to her head, an anxious, energetic presence muttering words like how and when and who.

When Seraphina finally woke, it was to the atmosphere of damp and decay bombarding her senses. As she struggled to open her eyes in the dim light of whatever room she lay in, she immediately noticed that where, before she had lost consciousness, she had felt an unbearable, ripping, gut-churning pain, there was now only a dull ache. She closed her eyes again and sighed. A death-eater wouldn't have mended her arm. She was safe. 

She tried again. This time, she managed to make out the outlines of two people, one who seemed camouflaged perfectly in the dark surroundings and the other who clashed spectacularly against them. She got only as far as registering black and bubblegum pink before she was hit by a strong urge to vomit and had had to close her eyes yet again. 

"-Blood-replenishing potion has done its job," one of the figures was saying in a slow, measured voice that Seraphina had the vague impression she should know well, "But she'll be groggy and nauseated when she wakes. She'll have to rest."   
"But what could have happened to her?" demanded a high, anxious voice that she definitely knew. "She was supposed to be undercover in the muggle world. Who would have attacked her there?"   
Seraphina tried to speak, tried to reassure her friend, but all the escaped was a weak croak. Tonks gave a little squawk and jumped to her knees beside her.   
"You're awake! How do you feel? Are you alright? What happened, Fifey? Did someone recognise you?" She blurted all in one breath. Despite how lousy she felt, Seraphina took comfort in her bright-haired, bubbly friend reacting exactly how she had expected. Asking a thousand questions a minute and leaving her no time to answer any.   
"M'alright," mumbled Seraphina, "Just gi's a minute to sit up." 

She pushed herself up onto her elbows and then wriggled her right wrist, testing its strength. It twinged a little but the deep, bloody gashes that had torn down her forearm were reduced to faint white lines, like a second set of veins. She glanced quickly at Severus Snape, hook-nosed, sallow-skinned and with as shrewd eyes as ever. He may be sour, curt, unpleasant even, but thank Merlin he knew how to brew a potion, she thought. They had lain her on a mouldy, moth-eaten silk divan in what might once have been a rather grand drawing room. But despite its high ceilings, the room was dark and dingy with heavy, tattered curtains stopping any glint of light from outside intruding and peeling black wallpaper covering every wall bar one which was decorated with an enormous tapestry. The ancient gas lamps on the walls cast a murky yellow glow over the room and seemed to create more shadows than light.

"So," said Seraphina, wrinkling her nose, "This is headquarters."  
"Yep, it's disgusting," agreed Tonks, "But we can explain about that later, Fifey. Now please, please, tell us what happened."  
"Are we the only ones here?" she asked, not wishing to have to repeat herself in ten minutes time.  
"No, unfortunately." Snape replied drily. Seraphina gave Tonks a questioning glance and Tonks rolled her eyes.   
"Two other order members are here as well," she said, ignoring Snape's indignant little scoff, "Remus and Sirius."   
"Sirius?" Seraphina had heard Tonks talk about Remus Lupin before, the outcast werewolf-turned-professor-turned-double agent and was quite curious to meet him, but she had never heard of a Sirius. "What, like Sirius Black?" she laughed. Tonks gave a nervous half smile, half grimace and Seraphina's grin faded. "Tonksy, you're not saying-" 

Just at that moment, the door creaked open to reveal two men standing in its frame. Both thin and shabbily dressed. One with short sandy brown hair flecked with grey, a scarred but kind face and dark, tired eyes. The other with long dark brown hair less matted and a haughty, handsome face less gaunt and hollowed than she had seen before but which was instantly recognisable as that of the notorious mass-murderer, Sirius Black.


	2. Chapter 2

Once Seraphina had suppressed the initial urge to hex the fugitive and bind him in chains, and she had been persuaded to stop yelling long enough for Tonks to get a word in, she had sat quietly and listened as Sirius Black told her a long and improbable story involving four unregistered animagi, a fidelius charm and a severed finger. Once Black had come to the end of his narrative, explaining that he had offered the use of his loathed family home, in which they now sat, for the use of the Order of the Phoenix, and Lupin had assured her that his story was completely genuine and authenticated, the attention turned back to Seraphina and the story she had yet to tell. 

"Now, please, before anyone says anything else, can we all shut up, sit still and listen to what happened to Fifey?" Tonks asked exasperatedly. The three men complied quickly, unused, Seraphina assumed, to hearing Tonks' voice sound so authoritative and serious.   
"Honestly, Tonksy, there's not much to tell," she said. She felt tired to her bones and unenthusiastic about sharing her stupid error but she knew there would be no persuading Tonks to wait any longer so she began.   
"I was doing as Dumbledore asked me; going undercover in muggle neighbourhoods near the homes of known death eaters to try and track their movements. Well, Yaxley lives here in London so I rented a flat in the block next to his dirty great townhouse in Kensington and started asking the neighbours about him. What was he like? Did he keep himself to himself? Did any of them know him? Mainly I got the same answers back; part of an unpleasant family who's lived there for as long as anyone can remember, never has a smile for anyone, absolutely refuses to socialise, that sort of thing. But one girl told me that she had gone to his door to ask him to sign a petition to house the homeless in the borough and from the second she knocked the door to the second she arrived back in her flat she hasn't a single memory of what happened. Well, that sounded like a poor Muggle Liaison cover-up job to me, so it got me wondering what magic Yaxley had used on her to warrant it. Although she can't remember anything, the girl is scared of him, really scared and I think she has a feeling something bad happened. So I decided to see if I could get him to try the same thing on me."  
"Foolish," came Snape's dry, waspish voice from the corner of the room where he skulked like a bat in the shadows.   
"Well, yes, I know that now, thanks." Seraphina snapped in return. "But I wanted proof that he was mistreating muggles. I thought if I could bring it to the Ministry he would be arrested and there would be one less death eater for Voldemort to use, one less for us to fight. So I went over to his house, transfigured to look older in case he recognised me form the ministry and tried to sell him Avon." She looked at the four clueless faces before her and explained. "It's makeup and bath stuff like that muggles go selling door to door, like Wonder-Witch in our world. Anyway, I thought he might try to hang me upside down by my ankle like they did to that family at the world cup last year or bewitch me to quack like a duck, something cruel but harmless, the usual." Snape shook his head and rolled his eyes. "As you've probably guessed, I was wrong. He invited me inside and as soon as the door was closed he used the flaying curse on me. It was all I could do to fire a memory charm at him and disaparate." 

Tonks, Lupin and Black looked appalled.   
"But it's worse than that if you think about it." Seraphina continued, "Someone at the Ministry must have known about this. If Yaxley attacked that girl that I met, they would have to have sent obliviators and taken her to St. Mungo's to heal her. And yet Yaxley isn't in Azkaban. There hasn't been a sniff of it in the Prophet. At least some in Magical Law Enforcement know that former Death Eaters are torturing Muggles and they're letting them get away with it! I don't think we're going to have an easy job of trying to thwart you-know-who if the ruddy Ministry for Magic is helping out his followers at every turn."   
"Well, it isn't news to us that corruption in the Ministry runs deep." said Lupin. His voice was reasonable, reassuring. Despite the gravity of their conversation, Seraphina saw Tonks' face soften and her worry dissolve as he spoke. She smiled and made a mental note to tell her friend not to be so obvious in the future. "But having you, Tonks, Arthur Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt on our side really will help. The more people we have on the inside, the more we have the chance of reaching, the more information we have the chance of accessing. You should never doubt that you are making a difference."   
"Here, here," Black said stoutly. His brisk bark of a voice sounded approving. "It took real guts to go after Yaxley on your own and now we know he has a mole at the Ministry, we can start investigating."   
Seraphina smiled at the pair. She knew she had been foolhardy to willingly enter a death eater's home with no back up but they were making her feel that she hadn't nearly lost her arm for nothing and she appreciated it. Snape did not follow suit. 

"It never ceases to amaze me," he sneered, "How Gryffindors can so easily misidentify stupidity as bravery. Providing that you did even manage to perform the memory charm correctly, Yaxley will wake with no memory of the day's events and realise his home has been infiltrated. No doubt the Dark Lord will wish me to investigate. Meanwhile, I have spent hours in this place healing your mangled arm when I should have been attending to Him. I must go to him at once before he becomes suspicious that I should be absent on the same day Yaxley is attacked." And with that, he swept from the room and moments later they heard the front door slam behind him.

Seraphina's face fell as a hot prickle of humiliation crept up her neck but Sirius growled, "Don't mind Snivellus. If there's one thing he hates more than shampoo its giving credit where credit's due." Seraphina and the other laughed and from that moment, though she could hardly have thought it possible, she considered the fugitive wanted for mass murder a good friend.


	3. Chapter 3

In the following few days that Seraphina spent recuperating in Number Twelve, she observed several things. The first was that though Sirius Black put on a show of joviality for the other Order members, the scars of Azkaban ran deep and she often found him to be in extremely low spirits, skulking alone in dark corners of the house, almost as antisocial as the mad old house elf, Kreature. The second was that her best friend Nymphadora Tonks was well on her way to falling in love with the werewolf Remus Lupin. The third was that Remus Lupin had already fallen quite irreversibly in love with Tonks.

This made for an interesting dynamic in the house when it was only the four of them, which it often was. Seraphina and Tonks each took several days off from their jobs at the ministry, Seraphina to recover and Tonks to help her do so. Remus was spending some weeks in between his transformations when he would return to his undercover work in the werewolf community and Sirius, given the matter of the Ministry warrant and the price on his head, wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. The other Order members, meanwhile, had jobs to go to and missions to complete. They came and went like passing ships, bringing reports of the prophecy, the rumours surrounding it and who they suspected to know of its true nature.

Though it was a source of endless guilt, Seraphina couldn't help but enjoy those days of rest. In the weeks following her official appointment as an Auror, she felt she had hardly had time to stop for breath. She had been so excited to get to work, the work she had dreamed of doing since she had first sat in a Defence Against the Dark Arts class, and which she now had to chance of doing alongside her favourite person in the world, when the whole Wizarding World had been turned on its head. A boy had died. Rumours were flying. And now the Ministry, her new employer, seemed to be embarking on a smear campaign against the only two people who could offer a reasonable explanation for all the bizarre occurrences of the past twelve months: Lord Voldemort had returned.

She and Tonks had hardly set foot in the door and were given their first Ministry assignments when their boss, the venerable Kingsley Shacklebolt had approached them asking questions about their loyalty, their beliefs. They had been honest, what else could they have done? They were neither liars nor cowards. But instead of shunting them off to paper-push in a back office as they had expected, Kingsley had asked them to join a covert group of witches and wizards who were working from inside the Ministry to try and thwart the return of He Who Must Not Be Named right under the nose of the nay saying Cornelius Fudge. They had been thrilled.

Soon the pair had been receiving orders written in the hand of their old headmaster as if they were back at Hogwarts and he were assigning them homework. As quickly as she had become disillusioned with the Ministry, Seraphina had become captivated by the Order of the Phoenix. Their operation was scrappy but impeccably organised, their members unassuming but dauntless and their cause unpopular but just. Seraphina felt that her seven years as a member of Gryffindor house had been leading her to this.

She had been itching to begin her reconnaissance of the death eaters but her brush with Yaxley now hit home just how inexperienced she was. She hadn't yet completed a single arrest as an auror and though she had disguised herself flawlessly and made her way into Yaxley's home without being observed, Yaxley had immediately managed to incapacitate her and she hadn't expected it in the least. Remembering how she had anticipated the levicorpus jinx or the bat-bogey hex, a mere practical joke, she felt incredibly naive. She had just been a child, raised and educated by muggles when Voldemort had first come to power. Now she had experienced firsthand how sinister and destructive his followers were, and how deep the veins of his influence ran, she welcomed the chance to take a few days to herself to reset and begin again, sharper and wiser than she had been before.

Besides, under the purposeful, industrious atmosphere of Number Twelve, there was a good deal of joviality and high jinks to be enjoyed. The little huckster Mundugus Fletcher always arrived with anecdotes of the incompetence and ineptitude of his rivals to spare and never failed to brighten Sirius's mood. In between diving into enormous tomes on the subject of prophecies, Seraphina engaged in competition with Tonks to see if she could match Tonk's metamorphmaging using only her wand and skill for self-transfiguration. This tradition stopped abruptly, however, when Seraphina sat in the kitchen quite solemnly listening to Dedalus Diggle's report on the latest developments from the Wizengamot quite oblivious to the fact that she still had a pair of fluffy poodle's ears, much to the delight and hilarity of the others. .

What Seraphina most enjoyed about these peaceful few days, however, was watching the tender, tentative little interactions between Tonks and Remus, then catching Sirius's eye and smirking, relishing their shared knowledge of what their best friends had yet to come to terms with. Remus constantly asking if Tonks was warm enough, rushing to tug off his cardigan and offer it to her if she gave the slightest hint of a shiver. Tonks accepting it with a blush and taking a deep inhale of the scent of its collar when she thought no one was watching. Remus stuttering and tripping over his words when he realised Tonks was listening and Tonks not noticing, hanging on his every word as if his was the only voice she could hear.

On the third day after Seraphina's brush with Yaxley, the four of them sat together in the kitchen. Seraphina was scanning the Daily Prophet, making note of any mention of Dumbledore or the Potter boy, Lupin was writing a letter and Sirius was consulting an ancient-looking volume that seemed almost to be disintegrating at his touch. Every so often, he let out a huff of frustration as a page came away from the spine or he found the ink had completely faded at a crucial point in a sentence. "Would you like a cup of tea, Remus?" Tonks asked. "I'd love one, thanks for asking." replied Seraphina before Remus had the chance, rolling her eyes deeply. Sirius chuckled, not bothering to look up from the treatise on the importance of syntax in the interpretation of prophecies.  
"Oh, you know what I mean," grumbled Tonks, flushing scarlet. Remus smiled, staring fixedly at his shoelaces. "Would anyone like a cup of tea?"  
"Oh no, too late for that, you offered Remus a cup so now you have to follow through." teased Seraphina. Tonks flashed her a murderous look and then went clattering about the kitchen preparing the tea.

Seraphina laughed inwardly. She had no idea why Tonks was offering to make a cup of tea when Remus was far better at the household types of spells than she was. Seraphina remembered an incident from their time as flatmates during their auror training when Tonks had tried to clean an enormous bundle of dirty clothes in one go and instead set them on fire. She had cast an aguamenti charm to put it out and had ended up drenching the entire flat. But, keeping one eye on the Prophet and one eye on Tonks, Seraphina was pleased and surprised to see that a cup of tea was produced without injury or accident. She was about to comment on this miraculous occurrence when Tonks tripped over her own foot and poured the whole thing into Lupin's lap. Seraphina and Sirius roared with laughter as Remus leapt to his feet but tried to hide his grimace of pain with a ludicrously forced smile that made him look quite mad.

"I'm so sorry, Remus," Tonks gasped, getting to her knees beside him, drawing her wand, pointing it at the steaming wet patch spreading over his robes and saying, "Here, turgio." But her cleaning charm only managed to shrink the stain slightly.  
"Don't worry, Tonks," Remus said softly, "I didn't really feel like tea anyway."

Just as Seraphina and Sirius dissolved into laughter again and Tonks, still knelt at eye-level with the stain on Lupin's robes, allowed herself a sheepish grin, the door flew open and Snape came stalking into the room, his aquiline features twisted in disapproval at the boisterous scene.  
"Enjoying ourselves, are we?" he asked coldly. Tonks climbed to her feet and turned redder still. Sirius's handsome features hardened, marred by deep dislike. "Always nice to see that healthy work ethic, Black."  
"This is actually what you call a friendly conversation, Snivellus," Sirius jeered, "I realise it must be difficult for you to recognise; I know you don't have many of them. Or many friends for that matter."

Seraphina watched as Snape clenched his fists in fury, his lips pressed into a thin white line.  
"I have come," he said, his voice stiff and jerky with suppressed rage, "To give my report to Dumbledore. Has he arrived yet? I don't intend to stay in this place any longer than strictly necessary."  
"Dumbledore's coming?" demanded Seraphina, Tonks and Remus at once. Sirius remained glaring, immovable, at Snape.  
"Out of the loop, are we?" sneered Snape. "Yes, Albus Dumbledore will be here at any minute. I wonder, what have you to report to him? What do you have to show for your _efforts_?"


	4. Chapter 4

A deeply uncomfortable silence swelled between the two men which could not help but affect the rest. Tonks and Seraphina caught each other's eye, brows raised at the intense atmosphere that had arrived through the door with Snape.  
"We'll go and straighten the drawing room out then, shall we, Fifey?" Tonks suggested, her eyes predictably fixed on Remus, whose anxious ones darted back and forth between friend and adversary. "Eh, aye, of course," Seraphina replied quickly, knowing full well how ridiculous the idea of herself and Tonks doing the tidying was but also that the only thing Tonks hated more than cleaning was an awkward situation. They bustled out of the kitchen and headed upstairs, each making concerted efforts to avoid eye contact.  
Once they were up in the drawing room out of earshot, Seraphina gave a low whistle and Tonks raised her eyebrows even further. "What the hell was that all about?" Seraphina asked, extracting her wand from her back pocket and attempting a few simple household spells to lift the inch-thick layer of dust that had settled over the floor and furniture and remove a few of the more conspicuous stains. The effect was negligible.  
"Remus told me it was an old school grudge that got out of hand," Tonks said in a hushed voice, examining one of the cushions and then throwing it away from her in disgust.  
"I'll say," said Seraphina, shaking her head, "I mean, there were plenty of people we couldn't stand the sight of at Hogwarts but if I saw them now, I wouldn't bat an eyelid. Especially if I knew they were in all _this_ ," she gestured around vaguely, "with me."  
"But Snape has always been - intense, I suppose." Tonks replied.  
"That's one word for it. Remember what he was like as a teacher?" she laughed and Tonks nodded fervently but then Seraphina's face fell. "I think he saved my life though, so I shouldn't talk."  
Tonks shrugged, then looked around surreptitiously and dropped her voice even further.  
"So, what do you think of Remus?" she asked, flushing so deeply that even the tips of her hair, today in a dark ear-length bob, turned red too. Seraphina laughed. She had been so tired each night that when she and Tonks had gone to their shared bedroom, she had fallen asleep almost instantly, well before they had been able to discuss Tonks' little flame.  
"What about him?" Seraphina asked in a voice full of innocence but with a face creasing from suppressed mirth.  
"Don't, Fifey!" Tonks groaned in anguish, wringing her hands, "I really need to know what you think. Am I being an idiot? Do you think he thinks I'm an idiot? I bet he does, clumsy oaf that I am."  
"Tonks slow down!" cried Seraphina, bemused. Tonks had gone through seven years of Hogwarts barely glancing at a boy so it was a shock to see her worked into a state over a shabbily-dressed, unemployed werewolf. But Seraphina had always doubted her friend could ever love someone conventional. "Listen to me. If you weren't so busy trying to hide your feelings from him you would have noticed that he's smitten with you!" Tonks gave a little squeak and punched Seraphina on the arm in her excitement.  
"Don't!" she moaned, "Don't, I can't stand this, Fifey. I'm just going to forget about it. Put it out of my mind. When you're better and I go back to my own place, I'm sure it will be easy." "Yeah, good luck with that," Seraphina teased but before Tonks could reply, the door at the end of the long, dusty hallway opened and their old headmaster, Albus Dumbledore stepped lightly through it.  
He gave them a tinkling little wave but touched his finger to his lips, almost concealed by his snowy beard, and gestured his head towards the raving portrait of Sirius' mother, slumbering behind a pair of heavy velvet curtains. They nodded and waved him through into the drawing room but he shook his head and pointed below to the kitchens. Tonks and Seraphina followed the old man down the narrow staircase to the servants' floor, very much hoping that the dour atmosphere below would have abated. It had not.  
Snape was standing stock still by the door, unmoved since they had let the room, glaring at Sirius who had his legs crossed and feet up on the table, scowling at the ceiling. Dumbledore surveyed the scene for a second and then took up a chair closest to the warmth of the stove, still smiling pleasantly as if he hadn't noticed the intense staring contest that was underway between the potions master, the outlaw and the chandelier. Seraphina had not seen the headmaster since she had left Hogwarts but she was unsurprised to notice that his presence still gave the calming impression that he could bring any situation under control.  
"Tea, Dumbledore?" asked Lupin, who had a kettle already boiling and a tray laid in preparation. "That would be most welcome, Remus." Dumbledore beamed. Seraphina crossed the room to help Lupin with the tea.  
"You knew he would want to meet down here," she hissed in his ear with their backs turned to the others, "Why did you let us mess around upstairs?"  
"I thought it would best to let you two escape," he replied, the ghost of grin on his face. Seraphina returned it and elbowed him in a gentle chide. A moment later, a steaming cup was set down in front of Dumbledore, who smiled more broadly than ever, and Lupin and Seraphina were sat on either side of Sirius. Tonks had jumped up to sit on the countertop, her boots banging against the cupboard door as she swung her legs.  
"Splendid!" Dumbledore exclaimed as he took a sip. This seemed to be the last straw for Snape. He let out an explosive breath.  
"While I'm sure the tea is delightful, Headmaster," he began in the cool but venomous tone that was uniquely his own, "I have rather important matters to be getting on with, unlike some, so if we can wrap up this little rendezvous as quickly as possible-"  
"Enough, Severus, Sirius," Dumbledore said quite calmly but in a tone that wasn't to be answered, as Sirius made to spring from his chair. Seraphina laid a hand firmly on his forearm. He looked sharply at her, obviously startled, but then his face softened and she smiled. "Severus, I will hear your report in a moment and then you can be on your way if you wish but first I want to hear from Miss Fife," he turned his kind, bespectacled eyes on Seraphina, "I trust that you are making a speedy recovery, Seraphina?"  
"Yes, sir," she answered, blushing in spite of herself. She felt eleven years old again. "The buzzing in my head is almost gone so I'm sure I'll be back to normal in a couple of days. The Auror office thinks that Tonks and I are down with dragonpox so we aren't being missed."  
"I'm glad to hear that," the old man replied, "Kingsley Shacklebolt was most concerned about his new protégés. I must say I was not at all surprised, although I must confess, a little disappointed when you were recruited as an Auror." Seraphina looked at him, bewildered. "I had hoped that you would consider taking up the post of muggle studies teacher when Professor Burbage retires. You always had plenty to say about the course as a student." 

Sirius, Remus and Tonks laughed at this. Tonks knew, and the two men were growing used to the little eccentricities that Seraphina retained from her muggle upbringing. She never cooked with magic, for example; it wasn't how she'd been taught and she found the very notion of it plain wrong. They found the sight of her chopping and stirring and dashing around the kitchens for ingredients most novel. And on the second day after her injury, Sirius and Remus had walked into the kitchen to find her stretched out on a tie-dye mat, chest pointed towards the ceiling. "Seraphina?" Sirius had inquired politely, "What in the name of Merlin's pants are you doing?" "Downward dog," she had replied in between breaths, "It's a yoga thing." "Yoga?" they had asked together, still perfectly bemused. 

"Oh, I wouldn't rule it out, professor," Seraphina laughed, "Professor Burbage has a few good years left in her yet and maybe by that time the excitement of the Auror office will have worn off." Tonks looked scandalised at this suggestion. "And besides, I don't think I could resist teaching all those wizard kids about the theoretical physics behind the magic they perform, or the technology that lets muggles watch moving pictures just like we do, or fly thousands of miles in a few hours just like we can - it would blow their wee minds." Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively and said, "Well, we can only live in hope."  
The tension successfully broken, Snape managed to deliver his report on the role that the death eaters had taken up with only three further jibes at Sirius' confinement to the house. With a curt nod, he was about to turn and leave when Dumbledore stopped him.  
"Just a moment, Severus," he said lightly, "I appreciate all that you have told us and all that it has cost you to discover it but I have some news of my own to share with you all. In a few days time, and with your consent of course, Sirius, the Weasley family will come to stay here for the remainder of the Summer in order to help make Number 12 more comfortable to inhabit."  
"Of course," Sirius said, his face brightening at the prospect of more company, "My manky, filth-infested pit is their manky, filth-infested pit." "Excellent," Dumbledore twinkled, "If it can be managed, I should like it to become, more than a meeting place, a comfortable base where members of the Order can stay in between missions and know that they are safe. They take quite enough risk as it is and this place, after all, does come with excellent built-in protection."  
The girls and Remus and Sirius gave their whole-hearted approval to the plan - none of them could pretend that the house as it was felt homey - but, unsurprisingly, Snape scoffed.  
"Risks aside, I still feel perfectly able to protect myself in my own home, Dumbledore," he said impatiently. "I would have thought any other member of the Order should possess the same ability. Now if you will excuse me," he strode from the room without a second glance.  
"Alas," sighed Dumbledore, "I fear, on many points, Severus and myself will never see eye to eye." Sirius was glaring after the black figure and Tonks and Remus didn't look sorry to see him go either but Seraphina was overcome by a strange and sudden impulse and made for the door herself.  
"Give me a minute," she said in reply to their questioning looks and then followed the potions master up the stairs.  
"Sn- I mean, Severus," she whispered as loud as she dared, wary of the portrait of Mrs Black. Snape stopped in his tracks and turned slowly, an expression of confusion and suspicion clear on his dark features. She moved closer to him so as not to have to strain her voice. "I know you think what I did, going to Yaxley's alone, was stupid and you're right. It was beyond stupid. But I just wanted to tell you that I think the way you brewed that blood-replenishing potion so quickly was -" she faltered under his steady, questioning gaze, "Well, I wanted to say that I'm really grateful, that's all. And I'm sorry, really sorry, if it caused you any trouble with - well, you-know-who."  
"There is no need to thank me for brewing a potion correctly," he began slowly, his voice as quiet as a whisper but clear and low as ever, "That is my job." Seraphina nodded, feeling a dull flush creep into her cheeks and cringing. She should have known not to bother with gratitude but the feeling of being indebted to him had been weighing on her quite heavily. Seeing him, she had felt she had to say something, make some gesture to try and repay it at least slightly. But she realised that her instinct was mistaken and turned to leave. "But it was no trouble." Snape continued suddenly, his voice still measured but perhaps a touch less suspicious, a touch less cold, "You were always unusually skilled at potionmaking and I know that, had the situations been reversed and I had been injured, you would have been able to produce a potion _almost_ equal to my own." His mouth remained characteristically set in its straight, fine line but his dark eyes betrayed at least the suggestion of a smile. Seraphina grinned and, light-hearted from the compliment, she felt a great sense of impishness wash over her, leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "Almost." she agreed and, turning on her heel, she bounded down the stairs again and out of sight, leaving Severus Snape, more than a little disconcerted, on the top step.


End file.
